


christmas one floor up

by herwhiteknight



Category: RWBY
Genre: (if you squint), Baking, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 19:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17167778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herwhiteknight/pseuds/herwhiteknight
Summary: Blake wouldn't say she that was a scrooge, but when her upstairs neighbours continually blast Christmas songs while she was trying to have some peace and quiet, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands.





	christmas one floor up

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in one sitting without any editing, so my apologies if you find any errors! Enjoy :)

Blake _just_ wanted to read her book. To sit down with a nice cup of tea, curl up by a _quietly_ crackling fireplace, and read her book. That was all.

“- _two turtle doves, and a paaaartriiiidge in a peeaaaarrr treeeeee!”_

That. Was. All.

_She was on_ holidays _for Christ’s sake!_ she thought to herself, then rolled her eyes at the accidental irony of her word choice. _Goddamnit._ She should be allowed to enjoy her holidays in peace and quiet without having that relaxation interrupted by-

“ _JINGLE BELLS! JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE ALL THE WAY! OH, WHAT FUN-!”_

-her upstairs neighbour _blasting_ that ungodly Christmas music so loud that she could feel the reverberation in her floor of her own apartment.

“I've just about had enough,” she muttered to herself, snapping her book shut with a frustrated huff. True, it’d only been about five or six minutes or so since she’d settled in, but this was an occurrence that’d been happening for the past two weeks leading up to Christmas. And she was tired of it.

“ _Bells on bob-tail ring! Making spirits-”_

“Want to murder you!” Blake yelled half-heartedly at the ceiling. She knew it wouldn’t be of any use though - she’d tried everything she could think of over the past few days to get them to turn their music down. Everything except, of course, actually _going_ up there and knocking on their door.

But the desire to keep to herself was slowly crumbling in the face of enjoying her two days off in relative silence.

Plus, she wasn't above pulling a mean face to get what she wanted. She once dumped an entire fresh pot of tea all over a guy’s crotch while at her favourite tea cafe because he’d made two advances too many in the space of an hour. It’d all been worth it to hear the ambulance driver say that his third degree burns matched the _exact_ shade of his red hair and for the manager of the shop to offer her fresh pot, on the house, because he’d been around harassing people for weeks.

Not like Blake was going to resort to anything like _that_ to get them to stop with their music, but she _was_ prepared for things to get ugly. The Christmas season seemed to bring out the inner wierdo and freak of a lot of people.

“Okay, so,” she muttered to herself, stepping out of the elevator. “Directly above should be….” _Right where the music is coming from, maybe?_ she rolled her eyes at herself. “And horrible karaoke,” she sighed, reaching out and pounding on the door loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Are we expecting anyone, sis?!” someone shouted from inside. A young girl’s voice. _Great_ , _irresponsible, probably college age, party animals._ Never mind that Blake herself was in her last year of college also, but at least _she_ had a work ethic. Blasting Christmas music was _not_ indicative of work ethic.

“No!” another older voice answered. “Ugh, _fuck_ , it better not be _mom_ coming in and acting like I owe her or something, it’s not Christmas yet!”

Blake tapped her foot impatiently and folded her arms, the continued assault on her ears making her more and more frustrated. Footsteps drew nearer as the music finally, _mercifully,_ cut off and Blake prepared herself for the confrontation.

The door swung open. “Look, mom, I’m so not- oh. Hi?”

Blake’s mouth, already opening to tell the person off, fell open the rest of the way. Because, standing in the doorway, was the most gorgeous woman she’d ever laid eyes on. Her golden hair was tied up in a messy ponytail and underneath her gentle lilac eyes, smudges of flour and chocolate stained her cheeks as well as an apron that read “Kiss The Cook”. Blake tried her damndest _not_ to even look at the way apron did little to cover her chest, but the orange v-neck t-shirt underneath practically drew her eyes right to it without a single command from Blake’s brain.

“Uh….,” Blake gaped, blinking hard. _Oh god she’s too cute, can’t do this. Nope, gotta abort._ “Um, wrong… door…,” she muttered, glancing away.

“Well, that’s too bad,” the woman said, stepping further out into the hall, leaning a hip against the doorframe as she cocked her head to the side, a smirk playing around her pretty lips. Blake’s eyes darted back to the words on the apron before shooting back up into lilac, and totally _not_ making a definite pitstop to check out her cleavage.

“Too bad?” Blake asked automatically, staying rooted to the spot despite clearly already stating that she didn’t have a reason to still be there.

“It looked like Santa was bringing me my present early this year,” she grinned again, sticking her hand out. “But I don’t recall putting a literal angel on my Christmas list. My name’s Yang.”

_You can’t make friends with the enemy!_ her logical brain shouted at her even as she reached out and shook her hand. _She listens to Christmas music! She enjoys it!_ “Wow, your hand is soft,” was all Blake said, not letting go.

Yang laughed, “It’s probably from all the flour. Me and my sister are baking some Christmas cookies! You wanna come in?”

“You’re going to invite a total stranger into your apartment,” Blake asked flatly, arching her eyebrow. At least she still had enough mental capacity to assess potentially dangerous situations. She still hadn’t let go of Yang’s hand though.

“Well, I can understand if ethereal beings sent from on high want to keep their secrets, I mean, I would too if I looked-”

“It’s Blake,” she blurted out. “And you do. Look like an angel, I mean,” Blake finished awkwardly as Yang arched an eyebrow at her.

“Like something you want to put on top of your tree, huh Blake?”

Blake shivered at the sound of her name falling from Yang’s lips, finally aware of her hand still in Yang’s warm hold. And even _more_ aware that she didn’t want to let it go. So she didn’t. “Something I’d like to put under it, in fact,” she returned fire, wondering how she even managed to construct something so witty in the face of someone so fucking beautiful.

Yang’s eyes widened, and underneath the flour and chocolate stains, Blake swore she saw a hint of a blush. “Now that’s something-”

“ _Yang!_ ” the younger voice from earlier shouted from within the apartment. “Who’s at the door?! The cookies are supposed to be done in the next five-!” a short girl with even shorter hair swung around the corner, bouncing to a stop in the hallway. “Oh! Hi there!”

Both Yang and Blake turned on the spot to face the intruder. Since some inner part of Blake’s core ideals told her to, under no circumstances, let Yang’s hand go, she ended up with one foot inside Yang’s apartment. The shorter girl took one quick glance at their joined hands and beamed broadly. Blake felt like she was suddenly on stage with at least three spotlights directed at her. “And what’s your name?” she asked, her tone implying _something._

“ _Ugh,_ ” Yang recovered first, but there was a smile on her face as she gestured to the other girl. “Blake, that’s my younger nuisance, I mean _sister,_ Ruby. Ruby, this is Blake. She got the wrong door.”

“And you’re bringing her in?!” Ruby asked, eyes wide in disbelief. “Yang!” she shouted for the second time, now accompanying it with a loud _smack_ to Yang’s shoulder. “What if she needed to be at someone else’s apartment! You can’t just-”

“Uh... actually,” Blake rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, vaguely noticing that she’d stepped further into the apartment - and even _closer_ to Yang. “I live below you guys. And um.. Well. I came up here to… well,” she coughed awkwardly, “to turn down your Christmas music,” she finished in a rush.

Yang’s eyes narrowed playfully, letting go of her hand to pretend shove Blake fake angrily towards the door. Blake tried not to miss the absence of Yang’s hand in hers immediately, but that was impossible. “Turn _down_ our Christmas music?!” she gasped, slapping that now-empty hand to her chest. “Where’s your Christmas spirit, huh Blake?!”

“Actually, my idea of Christmas spirit is sitting by the fireplace in the silence, reading a good book with a nice hot cup of tea beside me,” Blake said.

And was met with silence and blank stares. Yang looked over at Ruby, blinking. “That’s… nice, I guess,” she shrugged.

“Yeah, sounds… real fun…,” Ruby agreed just as slowly.

“What, and screaming along to overplayed Christmas music with boring lyrics is better?” Blake arched her eyebrow at Yang in particular, glad to have finally regained some of her purpose for the first time since coming face to face with Yang’s gorgeous self.

“Uh, yeah! Duh!” Yang grinned as Ruby suddenly zoomed out of the room at the sound of the buzzer for the cookies. “Why don’t you stick around for a little while and we’ll show you?” Yang offered, then quickly backtracked, “Only if you don’t have anything else to do tonight, since you were probably in the middle of something before you came up-”

Blake tilted her head, a smile spreading across her face as she regarded Yang softly. “No,” she said simply, “I didn’t have any other plans. I would love for you and Ruby to show me what Christmas is like for you two.”

“Okay! But you better be prepared for _a lot_ of Christmas music! And carols! And _all_ the bad remixes out there! And you _will_ be expected to sing along to the classics, so don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Yang declared triumphantly, holding out her hand to Blake once more.

And Blake took it without hesitation. “You’re on,” she nodded confidently, allowing herself to be dragged deeper into Yang’s apartment. Honestly, she’d follow this woman anywhere as long as she got to hold her hand.

Four hours, six different types of cookies and eleven Christmas albums, including karaoke versions, later, Blake and Yang stood next to each other at the sink in the kitchen, finishing up the last of the dishes after an intense soapy water fight that sent Ruby fleeing back to her room.

“Oh, man,” Blake gasped, fighting for breath as she grabbed a spare dry dish towel from Yang to wipe off her face, hair and shirt, all of which were dripping onto the linoleum floor. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”

“Ruby and I always get into shit like this,” Yang chuckled, toweling her hair dry with a cloth separate from the one she used for her face and clothes. Her apron had come off a long time ago after Blake cited it as being an unfair advantage in the water fight. Also, she totally _wasn’t_ going to say it, but she absolutely wanted a better view of Yang’s chest as the water clung to her shirt. Blake figured that both Yang and Ruby had guessed her ulterior motive, because that was about the time that Ruby had made her exit.

“God, the cleanup must be a pain though,” Blake said, glancing around at the floor and walls in the aftermath of their battle. It was mostly just soap suds and water stains, but there was a small bit of cookie batter that had somehow managed to get onto the ceiling.

“It’s better when you’re with someone,” Yang said, smiling softly at Blake.

Blake stood there silently for a moment, taking in Yang’s gentle expression as she leaned against the counter, absently wiping at a spot that was already dried. “I haven’t really hung out with anyone like this in a long time,” she admitted quietly, glancing down at her hands.

“Why’s that?”

“It’s just easier, I guess,” she shrugged, “I know exactly what I like and what I want and how I like things to be done. The routine is comforting, you know?”

Yang drummed her fingers against the countertop, her fingers extremely close to Blake’s. The alluring movement drew Blake’s eyes back up to Yang’s, but Yang was playing with her hair absently, looking out the small kitchen window as she was lost in thought. “I can see that,” she offered, the one corner of her lip twitching in a half smile. “That used to be what it was like for Ruby and me. I had to take care of her when her and I were really little, ‘cause her mom died and our dad left and.. I relied on that routine to survive.”

“Oh… Yang, I.. I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“No, it’s okay,” Yang said, smiling easily, and Blake marvelled even more now at how bright it was. Yang reached out and took Blake’s hand once more, “You didn’t know, how could you? It’s fine though! When we got older and moved out together, we started to be more random, more spontaneous! It really helped us, get a different perspective on life every now and then, you know?”

Blake squeezed Yang’s hand without thinking in response to Yang’s words. “Like you did for me tonight,” Blake murmured, feeling her breath catch in her throat.

“Yeah?” Yang breathed back, her exhale ghosting across Blake’s lips. She hadn’t realized they’d gotten so close.

Blake just hummed. “I was just going to read my book, drink my tea, finish my assignment and- wait, _shit, no,_ what time is it?!” Blake gasped, jumping back from Yang as panic flooded her veins.

“Uh…,” Yang said, dazedly. She glanced around herself for the clock, crossing the small kitchen space to wipe off soap suds from the digital display. “Just about ten,” she said.

“Oh, no no no, _fuck_!” Blake scrambled, tossing the soaked dish towels onto the counter. “I’ve got an assignment due at midnight! Oh my god, I completely lost track of time, I-”

“Here, let me walk you back to your apartment,” Yang offered, hurriedly calling out to Ruby and saying that she’d be back in a few minutes.

“No, no, you don’t have to-”

“You’re still _soaked,_ ” Yang pointed out, grabbing her sweater which was still mercifully dry and tossing it at Blake. “And I’d be a bad host if I didn’t make sure you made it home safely. After all, you never know if you’ll end up falling down the elevator shaft or something.”

Despite Blake’s panic, she couldn’t help but laugh as she pulled Yang’s sweater over her soaked shirt while they waited for the elevator. It was expectedly bigger than her, but Blake found herself burrowing into the well-worn yellow fabric, shamelessly breathing in Yang’s scent off the collar. “Well, that’s very gallant of you, Yang,” Blake said, half of her face smiling up at Yang from inside the hood.

“What kind of person would I be if I showed a girl a good time and then just left her out in the cold to fend for herself?” Yang asked, affronted as they stepped off at Blake’s floor.

Blake brought the conversation to a comfortable halt as she fished for her keys for a moment. “Even though it wasn’t _my_ version of a good time, I still had a lot of fun tonight,” Blake said, smiling up at the blonde who was more radiant than the sun.

Yang smiled back, looking a little bashful before replying. “Yeah, well. Me too. And if, uh, you know,” she hesitated a little, her blush becoming even more pronounced as she kicked a toe into the ground, “if you ever would like to show me your idea of a good time, with your book and tea, I uh… I would like that too. You know?”

“I would enjoy that, Yang,” Blake bit her lip for a moment, leaving her keys in the door for a brief moment as she glanced up into Yang’s eyes, swaying on her tiptoes. “Yang, could I-?”

“ _God, yes_ ,” Yang breathed, reaching out and cupping her hand behind Blake’s neck, pulling her into a deep kiss that didn’t last nearly long enough.

“Yang, I could…,” Blake murmured against Yang’s lips as she pulled back the tiniest amount. “I would really.. love to stay here, but I…”

“You gotta work,” Yang nodded, touching her forehead to Blake’s before she pulled away completely. “Don’t worry, I’ll be around. You know where to find me,” she winked, added, “and if not, I’ll be the one blaring all your least favourite Christmas songs just to remind you to take a break from your routine every now and then.”

Blake rolled her eyes, turning her key and opening her apartment door. “I’ll look forward to that,” she said, then gave Yang one last smile before stepping into her apartment and breathing out a happy sigh. She allowed herself a moment of reflection, realizing that she actually was telling the truth. “I guess Christmas carols aren’t _all_ that bad,” she smiled to herself.

 


End file.
